


these are hard times for dreamers

by orphan_account



Series: secondhand rapture [5]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DC Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, now with extras!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 11:15:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7682356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s been almost four years since the night she died.  At times like these, it feels like it was yesterday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	these are hard times for dreamers

**Author's Note:**

> What can I say? I cannot stop writing this 'verse, it's taking over my entire life, someone seND HELP. Anyway, most of this originally started out as the beginning of 'i fall on tragedy', but then I changed the entire premise and went in a different direction. I couldn't bring myself to get rid of this, though, so now it's a sequel....threequel....trilogy?? Who knows? I just thought it tied up Jasey's Joker storyline a little more neatly. And I'm rambling. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it.

Jasey is on fire.  Flames lick at her fingertips, singe away her long, black hair and scorch her face.  Her skin is burning away into ashes, leaving only the bleach-white of her bones behind, and she is screaming and screaming and screaming but all she can hear in her ears is cold, cruel laughter.  The crowbar lying next to her face is soaked in her blood, but it still glows in the heat of the flames.  _Such a pretty little Robin.  Such a pretty little Robin.  Such a pre-._  

“ _Jasey!_ ” 

She jerks awake at the sound of her name, her heart pounding so loudly that she’s scared it will explode right out of her chest.  Her right hand has a death grip on the arm of the man lying in the bed next to her and with a shaky breath she slowly lets him go and relaxes back into the mattress.  The silk navy blue sheets feel uncomfortably warm against her already flushed skin.

“Another nightmare?” Bruce Wayne asks as he pulls her into the safety of his strong arms.  His voice is even deeper with sleep.  “What was this one about?”

Jasey sighs, molding herself against him and holding on tight.  “Clowns.”

***

It’s raining and Jasey, Dick and Tim are playing 13 Dead End Drive in the entertainment room.  Tim is in the lead, his character almost to the front door of the mansion.  Jasey is barely paying attention to the game, a headache pounding away behind her eyes keeping her attention. 

“You want me to bring you some aspirin?” Dick asks her, noticing how she’s rubbing her head.

“No, I already took some.  Thanks, though.”

Dick opens his mouth to say something else but Tim interrupts him with a loud whoop.  “Ha, I win!  Take that, Grayson!”  He leaps to his feet, breaking into a victory dance that resembles someone being electrocuted. 

Dick rolls his eyes in disgust.  “Whatever, Tim.  I’m still older.”

“ _I’m still older?_   That’s the best you’ve got?”

Dick flips him off.

Suddenly, Bruce enters the room with a grim look on his face.  Everyone falls silent.  Tim sits back down on the floor.  They all know what a look like that means.  Trouble.  An even more serious look passes between Bruce and Dick, loaded with something Jasey can’t make out, and Dick grabs a protesting Tim by the hood of his jacket and drags him out of the room. 

“Everything okay?” Jasey asks Bruce carefully as he sinks down on the carpet next to her with a soft groan.  She starts to pack up the game, but Bruce reaches out and covers both her hands with one of his own, stopping her.

“I need to tell you something and you’re not going to like it.”

Jasey’s heart starts pounding away in her chest and her body tenses like she’s preparing for a blow.  She knows, deep in her bones, what Bruce is going to say before he says it.  “Don’t,” she whispers, trying to convince herself that if he doesn’t say it that it won’t be true.  She looks down at her hand, at how small it looks compared to Bruce’s.

“He’s out, Jay.  Harleen, too.”

Jasey doesn’t know what to say.  She wants to scream, to cry, to punch something, but she just sits there, silent, and lets Bruce hold her hand.  Tears prick at her eyelids, but she refuses to let them fall.  _You are not weak.  You are not weak.  You are not weak._   If she repeats it enough, maybe she’ll start believing it.  It’s been almost four years since the night she died.  At times like these, it feels like it was yesterday.

“What does he want?” she asks, hating how soft her voice sounds.  “Why-?”  She cuts off, too emotional to form anymore words.  _Why does he keep doing this?_ she thinks.  _He’s caused **enough** pain, why can’t he just stop?_

Jasey doesn’t ask to go with them when they head out later that night, the rain still pouring down in sheets.  She knows Bruce would never allow her to and she has no desire to pick a fight with him, not about that.  She doesn’t know what she would do if she ever saw the Joker’s face again, and she’s not sure she wants to find out.  So, she stays home and she waits. 

Bruce climbs into bed around three in the morning, his hair still damp from the rain and a nasty bruise on his cheek.  “It’s okay,” he tells her, when she gently runs her fingertips over it, her eyebrows raised in question.  “Everything’s okay.”  She knows he means more than the bruise and a breath she didn’t know she had been holding in slowly releases from between her lips.  That night, there are no nightmares.


End file.
